


Stir Fry Kagome

by EvilFuzzy9



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Cannibalism, Consensual Kink, Consensual Snuff, Cooked Alive, Dolcett - Freeform, F/M, Liberties Taken With How You Actually Cook Things, No Sex, Nudity, Snuff, Willing Victim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6800617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilFuzzy9/pseuds/EvilFuzzy9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagome is made into a stir fry. What else can you say?</p>
<p>[cannibal, snuff, dolcett]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stir Fry Kagome

"S-Stop looking at me like that..."

Kagome Higurashi mumbled and crossed an arm over her chest. Her cheeks were bright rosy in color, and getting starkly pinker. A hand pressed itself soft and slender between her legs, abashedly cupping the bulge of her pubic mound. Dark hair fell a short way down her bare back, her skin growing ruddy in great, hot patches under the open sunlight.

Her bosom, modestly generous in size, seemed to her curiously burdensome right then and there. It swelled with her breathing, which was slow and deep despite the furiously bounding pace of her heartbeat, two creamy breasts rising and falling behind her arm. Kagome covered her nipples, and her privates also, but she did not have enough hands by half to conceal all her nakedness, and the curve of her pert backside was something of which she felt exhilaratingly conscious under the glance of Inuyasha.

Her heart was pounding, pounding, pounding in her chest. Sweat trickled down her brow, gathering up and threatening to fall in her eyes. Had both her hands not been busy preserving some scant modicum of decency, she would have drawn one across her forehead and wiped the sweat away. As she could not, it instead dripped further down, and she blinked her eyes as they stung, tears welling up and mingling with her sweat.

Kagome felt hot, but not from her surroundings. Although the sun shone brightly, it was late autumn, and in truth the air was rather cooler and crisper than she liked. But still her body burned, and even the blazing flames that licked the underside of that huge iron wok in this sheltered hollow could not match the intensity of the heat within her own flesh.

Inuyasha stared at her, and he was unabashed. Kagome was not unhappy with the way he looked at her. She liked the cambion, the dog spirit _hanyou_ , even if he could be such a cad at times. He was not unhandsome, though she knew of men comelier and more appealing in face or speech. Still, she was fond of him. She liked him.

Maybe she even loved him, though she did not feel ready to admit that. Not yet.

Not ever, now. Too late for such confessions was the time, even had she felt sure and ready enough of anything to confess. The wok was glowing dully red on its underside, the flames heating it, and the water in it hissed and steamed in curling, sinuous vapors. Rice she saw drawn up near to the wok in a cask, rice that she herself had prepared, and vegetables that she had sliced also, and oil and spices for cooking.

Cooking.

Yes, for that they had everything they needed. Utensils, dishes, ingredients. Rice, spice, vegetables. Kagome looked down at her naked body, still covering herself in a pathetic imitation of dignity.

They had everything. Everything they needed to cook a meal.

Even meat.

_Especially_ meat.

Kagome stared at herself, gazing down at her body. She thought of the wok, of the preparations she had made, of what she intended to do. Her insides twisted and writhed as she considered it, and she felt fear, fear enough to chill her blood and make her long to bolt. But to fly now in the face of death would be a dishonor, a shame to her priestly lineage.

It would disgrace her name if she, Kagome Higurashi, went back on her word. She had made this promise and she would follow it through, no matter how it hurt or what, indeed, happened to her at the end. Because she knew how it would end, and she could guess how horribly it would hurt, though with such matters as this you could never REALLY know until you'd experienced it first hand.

She would know for certain very soon. The pain would be hers, and whether it turned out less or greater than she expected, she would endure it and die trying.

Not _or_ die trying.

Death was not optional, not with an endeavor like this. She would die, and it would be slow and painful. But it was something she had sworn to do, and she would not back down.

She was too stubborn to back down.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Inuyasha asked her.

"Of course I am," Kagome lied. "I promised to do it."

He frowned, but he did not challenge her again. She wished he would. She wished he would grab her and _make_ her stop, wished he would throw her to the grass and pin her beneath his body, wished he would hold her and hold her until she gave up all resistance and melted, relenting, into his fierce and protective embrace, accepting at last the feelings that they could not bring themselves to name.

But he did not. He did not, and he would not. He knew better than to defy her when her mind was this set.

Sighing inwardly, Kagome strode to the wok. She let her hands fall to her sides, and Inuyasha stared unblinkingly at her nakedness. She burned hotter still, and not only from increased proximity to the fire.

Why was she doing this? That didn't matter. The reason was unimportant. Motive meant nothing, now. Only people had motives, hopes and dreams and wishes. But people did not do this, not so far as she was concerned. People did not go willingly to their death, at least not to such a death as she now faced.

People weren't cooked and eaten.

...No, that wasn't true. Even as Kagome thought it, she knew it was fallacious. Here at least, in this barbaric time period when youkai and worse things still roamed numerous and free throughout many wild places in Japan, subjugating humans and terrorizing villages, it was not at all strange for a beautiful maiden like her to find herself consigned to such a fate as this.

She was a human, and Inuyasha a demon. Half or full, he was demon still, a thing of spirit old and fell. He was wild, beholden to no master save his own whim, a nameless fear and wonder to mortal men in these days of darkness and death. Fierce and ravening he stalked the woods, the plains, hills, and valleys, roaming far and wide wherever he wished.

It was not strange, in these days, that a young woman such as Kagome should find her life cut short for a creature like him. Usually, perhaps, it would be forced upon her, she would be seized and raped and beaten before getting tossed in the pot once she was used up and broken and served no purpose beyond cooking. She would not choose to cook, she would not prepare her own funeral pyre beneath her own death bed, strip herself and throw herself in at no bidding save that of her own will.

Yet such were Kagome's actions.

Wary of the flames, but not overly concerned, she stepped up into the wok. One leg was raised up rather high, and her rear moved with it, and her sex was exposed, shifted and slightly parted. Inuyasha watched raptly. Kagome felt the heat on her most sensitive parts even before she set her foot down, submerging it at once in the boiling water, planting her sole on the hot, hot iron.

It hurt beyond description, and her footing was treacherous. Kagome's foot burned at once, furiously consumed by the agony of boiling water. It felt raw and naked, naked even compared to the rest of her body, which was clad in aught but air and sweat, as if the skin was peeled away and a thousand burning needles were plunged into every nerve. However much she had prepared herself for the pain, she could not have sufficiently bolstered herself against this sensation, even had her nerves been made of steel.

Kagome cried out, and for a moment all sense left her. But she didn't let herself lose focus, not completely. She grit her teeth and swallowed and whimpered, and laying her hands on the rim of the wok, feeling it burn immediately and seeing her fingers go a furious red, she heaved herself up.

Her foot slipped, burned raw and screaming its agony directly into her brain. Her body lurched and tumbled, and her hands released the rim of the wok when she was halfway in, unable to endure the metal's touch any longer. Sidelong she toppled into the boiling water, naked and slender with modest curves, a cute body and pretty face.

A bare ass was high in the air, briefly. The folds of a velvety cunt peeked out tantalizingly. Nipples stiff and erect twitched at a rush of heat, steam and water vapor flying up about her. Round tits slapped sideways into the water, which swelled at her body's introduction and partly submerged her under its roiling surface. Her bosom sank, and it stung, and her ass burned, and her cunt—her cunt! Oh, heavens, the pain was indescribable!

But Kagome did not scream much. It hurt and hurt and HURT, but she mastered herself splendidly. She had an iron will, though it rarely showed so clearly as it did now, and soon her cries had stopped, even though the pain she felt was only growing worse. It was a torture beyond anything her mind had ever known, but she endured it admirably.

Indeed, as the pain worsened, new sounds of a different nature began to escape Kagome. They were not of agony, at least not in the sense of one who hates the pain they feel and wants it to stop. For she was moaning, starting to whine and mewl and hiss. These sounds were caused by the pain, but they were sounds of pleasure. She was enjoying it. She was beginning to relish her suffering.

And was it any wonder? There was a reason she had chosen to do this. A mad reason, a fool's reason, a whore's reason.

She liked pain. She loved it. She was a masochist of the most extreme sort. It was secret, and she told no one, but she loved things like this, and she had dreamed about such happenings since she was very young.

This was her last exercise of that fetish, her final and ultimate fantasy. And a motive this was, yet she denied it to herself, and told herself that there was no reason, that she did not choose to cook and was not forced to cook, but cooked simply because it was natural, because that was what she was for, the one and only purpose of her silly existence.

Kagome was thrilled by these thoughts, and she moaned louder, rolling onto her back. She looked at Inuyasha, who was staring at her. Her skin was violently red under the water, which rose a bit over halfway up her body. It was difficult to make anything out through the steam, or through her own swimming vision, but Kagome thought she saw him grab some ingredients.

She smiled, and weakly she grasped her breasts. Raw, tender hands fell onto soft, stinging mounds. She squeezed rosy flesh, and both hand and teat hurt, so sensitive were they from the boiling water. Gingerly at first she massaged her bosom, and she bucked her hips in the water. Her cunt hurt monstrously, her mind was foggy, she was dizzy with pain and faintly delirious.

Inuyasha came nigh, and it was with prepared spices and vegetables. He began putting them in the wok, and Kagome watched sprigs of onion, sliced radish, and other things fall about her.

She felt her backside burning. It was terrible yet delightful, and she writhed with what strength was in her body. Bubbling water splashed around Kagome as her arms and legs stirred it, a slim body squirming as it was scalded. She felt the vegetables brush her skin, and she moaned, for it stung.

Her ass slapped the bottom of the wok. Her tits wobbled suggestively in her hands, deforming with zealous ministrations. Her head was swimming, her body burning, her muscles going weak and tender. She was boiling, boiling, boiling alive.

Kagome beamed as the water boiled away, and Inuyasha began flinging clods of rice into the wok. It landed all about her in the sizzling wok, which had little water left in it. She felt rice cool and moist stick to her skin here and there, painfully soothing on her much abused and weakened body.

More rice came in, filling much of the wok up. A part of Kagome idly mused that this was all wrong from how you were supposed to do a stir fry, but she could not care less about critiquing it. She was the one who'd planned it, after all.

Cast iron sizzled against Kagome's flesh. Her backside was numb, though her brain yet remembered the overwhelming pain of boiling and was half convinced still that she felt it. Her arms lay limp, now, and her legs would not be able to support her weight.

It hurt, blissfully so, and her lithe, nubile body would have wriggled delightedly among the rice and vegetables if she'd still had the strength left to do so. She was in heaven, this hell of cooking alive, and her eyes were glazing over as the heat rose to her brain.

Inuyasha prodded Kagome's side with a large wooden utensil. Breathlessly she moaned. The wok sizzled deafeningly, a hissing and popping and rushing that filled her ears with a ceaseless cacophony. Her breasts bobbed pertly as Inuyasha nudged her again, harder this time, pushing under and prying her body up, rolling her onto her belly.

The pain was renewed. Her ass was blasted by the air, which felt icy cold after the heat of the cast iron. Apparently she still had feeling there after all. Apart from that, her legs flopped wide and open, leaving a virgin cunt exposed. Frying rice clumped around her breasts, and her waist, and all the front of her body. Her face was buried in the rice. Vegetables sizzled around her. Grease or sauce or oil of some description popped and splashed across her form.

She was smothered. She could not breathe. Her bosom was enveloped by the rice, and it burned and stung horribly. Her backside was brown and slick, greasy with liquefying fat and other fluids that seeped out of her body as she cooked.

Kagome craned her neck to lift her face above the rice. She felt feeble and dizzy, and her world was spinning and burning and shrieking in her ears with the hiss of steam, her body cooking, cooking, cooking.

Inuyasha threw in more rice over Kagome's head. It flew in her face and got in her mouth. It rose above her eyes, even with her head raised as high as possible, and it filled her nostrils and burned her cheeks.

She was going numb. Truly numb, this time. She couldn't breathe. Her world was going dark.

She felt a twinge of something that her fading mind could not identify. Contentment? Fear? Lust? Despair?

None could say, least of all Kagome.

A smile crossed her lips, even though her face was buried in frying rice that smelt of her own sizzling juices. She didn't feel anything anymore. Not even pain.

She was just meat.

**Author's Note:**

> This was suggested/reuested by a guest reviewer of Cannibal Kunoichi Ramen. I'm only vaguely familiar with Inuyasha, so it's not a very in depth piece. 
> 
> Updated: 5-9-16
> 
> TTFN and R&R!
> 
> – — ❤


End file.
